Chapter II
The beating drags on forever, Kieren lost count somewhere after forty strikes. He's going to kill me...I'm going to be beaten to death. Just when he thinks he might pass out from the pain of it, pass blissfully into unconsciousness, Gary stops. The belt lands heavily on the floor, and through the haze of pain the sound of Gary's fly being unzipped rings out loud and threatening in the silence. He can feel the head of Gary's cock resting against his entrance, but Kieren can't move, can't breath without pain. Kieren's small shudders and whimpers turn to muffled screams as Gary presses in, hard and fast, with one hand fisted in his hair, the other around his neck. Gary pulls out all way, then shoves in again, blood is trickling down Kieren's thighs.
He cums fast, using the remnants of the tattered shirt to wipe Kieren's blood off before tucking himself back into his jeans. Then he bends down to pick up the belt, Kieren flinches, but Gary only laughs softly to himself before putting the belt on and buckling it. He picks up the knife from where it was abandoned on the bed and cuts the bloodstained ropes off the boy's wrists. Then he leaves without a word, taking the key from the floor and re-locking the bedroom door. Leaving Kieren trapped inside. The teen only slides to the floor, passing out before even taking off the gag.
Simon doesn't see Gary's truck speed away. He's outside the Walker Residence less than a half hour after Gary leaves, across the street, standing in the bushes. He drops the Undead Prophet's knife, and it lands in the dirt heavily. Simon knows he won't ever pick it up, after all there is what he believes and then there's Kieren. Simon crosses the street, instinctively glancing around to see who was watching. No one, that he could see. The front door is unlocked, but the family car is gone. He calls out, "Hello? Kieren are you home? Anyone?" Simon is about to turn to leave, but something feels off, there's a feeling in his gut. He throws open the coat closet by the door, and there's Kieren's jacket..his boots.
He takes the stairs two at a time, rushing to his lover's bedroom. The handle won't turn, someone's locked it. "Kieren! Are you in there? Kieren open the door please, I'm sorry I left," Simon is shouting. There's a groan from inside, and Simon quiets. "Help...?" Kieren's voice is soft, strained and the words are muffled, but it's there.
"I'm here Kieren, stand back!" and with that Simon throws himself against the door, once, twice, until it gives. But nothing could have prepared him for the sight on the other side of that door.
Kieren is naked and bloody welts cover his back and butt and there's blood among other substances covering the back of his thighs. The slashes on his wrists have begun to bleed again, sluggishly through the haphazard staples. His face is bloody and bruised and angry red marks that look suspiciously like fingers cover his neck and throat. Simon throws himself to the floor, immediately in action. He unties the gag, carefully removing the fabric from the mouth of the boy he loves. Yes, loves. Blood, blood, there is to much blood, and Simon grabs two t-shirts from the laundry basket, wrapping them around Kieren's wrists, tying them as tight as he dares. Kieren is sobbing into Simon's sweater. "Your okay, I'm here, your safe now," Simon is whispering consolations when he hears the front door open. "Help! Help! Kieren's been attacked, up here!" he screams.
This is how Jem finds them, Kieren clutching at Simon while Simon is cradling his body gently, wary of touching him to harshly, for fear of hurting the broken boy. "Jem, call an ambulance, we have to get him to a hospital!" Simon is barking orders in his assertive way, he's in action, always good in a crisis. But Jem is deathly pale, eyes wild and trying to back out of the room. "No, no, no... I can't, I can't watch him die, not again," Jem says.
"Jem look at me," says Simon, "he's not going to die, but I need your help, call an ambulance." His voice is low, like he's talking to a trapped animal, his eyes are imploring. She nods. "Hurry Jem." he says before turning back to Kieren. He's starting to fade, blood loss and exhaustion. "Kier, stay with me," Simon cradles his cheek, "open your eyes, look at me baby."
"I'm so tired Si..." whispers Kieren. And his eyes close. Simon puts his fingers to Kierens jugular, searching for a pulse, he finds it, but it's weak, uneven. Jem's back with the phone, rattling frantically to the operator, she's panicking. "Jem, give me the phone, go find a blanket for him." Simon says, his voice fighting to stay even. She hands him the phone. "He's unconscious, major blood loss. How fast can they be here?" he says into the phone.
The operator replies, "Twenty minutes, have you staunched the bleeding?"
"Yes, what else can I do?" Simon's voice is growing more fearful.
"Elevate the wounds, but pressure on them, if he stops breathing. I can talk you through CPR."
"I know it, how much more time?"
"Seventeen minutes, about."
"I'm gonna hand the phone back to the girl now," Simon's voice is dead, devoid of inflection. Jem takes the phone, handing Simon a blanket, which he wraps around Kieren's still body. Simon lifts his wrists above his head, "Jem take his wrists, put as much pressure on them as you can." She puts the phone down, on speaker phone. Simon goes back to feeling for a pulse, he lowers his ear to Kieren's mouth, listening for his breathing. It's shallow, but its there.
Five minutes later, Simon's still listening, still feeling. When the heartbeats falter, and he hasn't drawn another breath, Simon curses "Damn it!" "How much time?" he asks as he straddles the boys body. "Ten minutes, he can survive that long, just keep doing the CPR." says the disembodied voice. But Simon is already pressing his palms into Kier's chest, Jem's crying, and he tilts his head back, giving him two breaths-sirens are wailing the in the distance. Jem's screaming, "Help, help, up here!" Someone pulls him off, depositing him in the corner, Jem is next to him, and they stare as three paramedics put compresses on his wrists, and ready the machines and shout "Clear!" and Kieren's lifeless body jerks. And again, he jerks, then gasps in a breath. Kieren's alive. Really alive.
The paramedics lift him onto a stretcher and two begin to carry him downstairs, while the other hangs back. "You two saved his life. We'll see when we get to the hospital, but I think he's gonna pull through," he says. Maybe it's meant to be comforting but Simon wouldn't know, as he's pushed past the man before he can get the words out. Never letting Kieren out of his sight. Jem is close behind. When they're outside, they make a beeline for the ambulance they're loading Kieren into. "Only one person can accompany him I'm afraid," says the third paramedic. Simon looks at Jem, "You're family..."
"You saved his life," she says tearfully "He needs you, I'll talk to mom and dad. They won't take it well from you."
Simon nods, then pulls himself into the ambulance, taking Kieren's still pale hand in his.